“I’ve never had this much blood on my hands before.” Seth wiped his soiled hands on his pants.
“Careful, do not get on your face,” Soraya warned.
“That’s all it takes, huh?”
“No one knows. I am sorry. We must be very careful now.” Soraya looked at her own hands.
“Do you mind if I ask you something, Soraya?” Seth said with some trepidation.
“Please,” Soraya answered eagerly.
“Is it like this back home? The infected, I mean, in Israel.”
“I do not know this, Seth. I pray it is not, but I fear for my family.”
“When you were in Philadelphia, before it got bad, had any of you or your unit had a chance to talk with your families? Any idea how they’re coping?”
“No. We were not allowed to speak with anyone. Not even the civilians we were tasked with helping. Everything we did and saw was classified. Top secret.”
“It would be nice to know, you know?”
“Yes. Now I fear I will never see them again.”
“I’m sorry, Soraya. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“It is okay, Seth. What about you? Was your family in Pepperbush?”
“No, thank God. My parents retired to Florida years ago, and my sister… Well, my sister is in prison. Vehicular manslaughter. It crushed my folks. My father’s had this look in his eye ever since, like a part of him died with that family. I can hardly face him anymore, and now… Now I’ll most likely never see them again. Any of them.” His lip curled with the thought.
“Then you and I are not so different after all, my friend,” Soraya suggested, patting him on the back.
“No, I guess we’re not.”
“Isabelle can we talk?” Rachel asked.
“Rachel, right?”
“That’s me,” Rachel said. “I’ve seen you around today and a little back in town, but we’ve never been properly introduced.”
“Well now we have. Look, I know what you’re going to say, and I’m fine. I meant what I said back there, and no offense to you or anyone else, but that needed to happen.”
“You’ll get no arguments here or from any of my people. It’s just that, well, you’re a civilian. You shouldn’t have had to do that at all. It’s our responsibility to take care of that sort of thing.”
“It’s your responsibility to keep us alive. How we live is up to us.”
“Fair enough, but if you ever—” Rachel began, but Isabelle would have no more of it.
“I think I’ve said all I plan to on this. Keep it from Tobias, would you? As long as you can, at least. He worries too much as it is,” Isabelle asked with a nonchalance that would have betrayed her apathetic stance on the matter if it wasn’t already apparent. The woman truly did not care what her husband thought.
“I’ll do what I can, but this is a small group. Word’s going to travel fast,” Rachel warned.
Isabelle shrugged and walked off. Rachel watched her go, standing at the side of the road and rubbing down the raised hairs on her forearms.
• • •
Dusk had neared by the time it was decided that a slight deviation in the plan was in order. Miller had studied their planned route all afternoon. Something wasn’t sitting right with him regarding their destination.
“We’re not going to Cape May,” Miller stated bluntly.
Tobias was understandably confused. He assumed Miller was on board with the plan all along. “What? But I thought we agreed to make a run for the ocean?”
“Take a look at your map. Tell me what you see.”
Tobias unfolded his map atop the hood of his truck, staring at their intended destination. Confusion washed over his face. “Uh, pretty much a straight line from here to Cape May. Without traffic we’ll be there in under two hours.”
“Without traffic, sure, but we can’t be certain the roads are clear. Not that far off the beaten path, anyway. There could be miles of abandoned vehicles when we near Atlantic City, and roadblocks equal death traps.”
“We’re so close. I say it’s worth the risk.”
“Normally I’d be inclined to agree, but Cape May’s different. Look again.” Miller was persistent.
This time both men looked at the map. A few moments later, an air of realization took Tobias.
“I get it,” he said.
Miller nodded. “Cape May’s located on a peninsula, surrounded on three sides by water. If—and I’ll admit it’s a big one—but if we get there and we can’t find a working boat, we’ll be forced to re-cover all that distance just to wind up right back in this exact spot.” Miller tapped right above their position on the map.
“And if we ran into a bunch of infected on the way there, we’d have to fight our way back through them coming out,” Tobias added with an understanding nod.
“Precisely.”
“I take it you have an alternative then?”
“As a matter of fact I do. Have a look at this.” Miller unfolded another map. This one covered the majority of the Eastern Seaboard. “We should still head south, obviously staying as far away from DC, Baltimore, and any other of the larger cities on our way. Southern Virginia and into the Carolinas should be our best bet.” Miller pointed out various locations on the new map.
“You’re right. The coast is littered with waterways.” Tobias leaped at the prospect.
“And hundreds of marinas,” Miller added. “But most importantly, if we can’t find what we’re looking for, we just keep going. No backtracking necessary.”
Tobias returned to his truck. It had been a few hours since he last checked on his family. He was surprised to see Isabelle nowhere around, but he was eager to spend time with his children, who he found sitting on the road in front of the family vehicle.
“Lillian, you should eat something, honey.” Tobias handed his daughter a small candy bar. “Here, I know it’s not much, but it’ll be something in your belly.”
“Thanks, Dad.” She took her time with the sweet morsel.
“How are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked, taking a seat beside her, careful to stay clear of the truck’s grime-encrusted grill.
“I’m fine, Dad. Really. What’s happening, though? Are the soldiers going to take us somewhere safe, to their base or something?”
“You bet they are, but no, there’s no base to go to. Too dangerous to try. It may not seem like it now, but we’re in good hands. Miller and his friends know what they’re doing.”
“You know you don’t have to talk to me like I’m a child, Dad. I’m twenty-two years old,” Lillian insisted.
“I know. It’s just… Come here.” Tobias hugged Lillian tight, the concerned father nearly cutting off the girl’s circulation as he tried desperately to hold back tears. “I love you so much, baby. I’ll never let anything happen to you. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know, Dad. I know. I love you, too. Now, please, you’re crushing me here.”
Tobias released his grip and returned to his place beside her as Tommy came dashing from beside the truck. The boy jumped on his dad’s lap and scooted in next to his sister.
“Hey! There you are, little man. Where have you been?” Tobias asked, elated to see his boy.
“Playing with Dusty,” the boy replied.
“Is Dusty behaving tonight?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Here you go, squirt.” Lillian handed the boy all but a small piece of her candy bar.
“Thanks, Lil.”
Content, Tobias watched his children eat what might as well have been the last candy bar in the world. He let them be and simply smiled.
The group of survivors gathered at the center of the caravan. For most, the initial shock of last night’s massacre had worn off; it was time for answers. This group of soldiers had pulled them from the brink, and they were grateful, but if Miller didn’t have a solution, then all was for naught. Where they would go and how they would survive on the road were the two most frequent questions
bandied about. Miller thought it best to keep everyone in the loop and make them feel like an equal part of the decision-making process, as he needed these people to function as a cohesive unit if he was to have any chance at leading them to safety.
The comfort of familiarity was not lost on Miller, hence the decision to include Marisol and Sam in the decision-making responsibilities for the group. Marisol had a no-nonsense attitude and a heightened bullshit detector. Plus, she was well-liked among the people of Pepperbush long before their worlds were turned upside down. Choosing her to act as an intermediary between the soldiers and civilians would be invaluable in assuaging any trust issues fostered by the group.
Marisol stood in the bed of Bernie’s truck, talking with the survivors. She answered what questions she could and as best as she knew how. Mostly she let the group vent and voice their frustrations to get a feel for the group’s needs and concerns.
“As mayor, I suggest that we put our options to a vote,” Mayor Lancaster suggested, speaking above the crowd, as he was accustomed to doing.
“Mayor of what? Pepperbush is gone, in case you haven’t noticed,” Tobias was quick to point out.
“Hell, even if Pepperbush was still standing, we’re at least a hundred miles away,” Seth added. “You don’t call shit, old man.”
Marisol sized up the once-powerful official. Without his cronies, Lancaster looked small. Frail, even. “You’re the mayor of nothing, Lancaster. Your days of calling the shots are over. From where I’m standing, it doesn’t appear any of your thugs made it out alive.”
Vanessa clenched her fists. The mention of Lancaster’s thugs sent chills up her spine. The thought of Jim, in particular, was nearly rage-inducing.
“As far as I’m concerned, we’re in their hands now,” Tobias said with assurance as he gestured to Miller and Marisol. “The military and the police are trained to handle emergencies. I say we let them decide the best course of action here.”
“Have it your way, then.” Lancaster stood off to the side. He positioned himself halfway between the townsfolk he so despised and the new authority he held no sway over.
“Sheriff, do you mind?” Miller approached the platform.
“Please.” Marisol gestured for the captain to address the crowd.
Miller hopped up into the bed of Bernie’s truck. Marisol took a seat atop a cooler behind him.
“I understand you all have questions, and I’ll get to those in a moment. I promise. I have a few things I’d like to say first.” Miller jumped right into his semi-prepared speech. Addressing a crowd like this was not a position he was comfortable with, but Takashi’s death thrust him into it, nonetheless. “You’ve all been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours, and for that, you have my sympathy. So I won’t stand here and lie to you by saying the worst is behind us, because I honestly do not know. What I can tell you is that we are heading south in hopes of finding a boat. Getting off the road as soon as possible is the priority here.”
Most of the crowd appeared relieved, others distressed. The idea of spending days on the road and looking for something that might not even exist was terrifying for some.
Miller continued.
“What you experienced last night was no fluke by any means. This is your reality now, people. This is what is happening around the entire country. The more populated an area, the worse it is. What we faced last night was only a fraction of the danger we’ll find ourselves in if we get too close to a major city. That being said, the idea is to stick to back roads as much as possible for the duration of our journey. A few days ago, Tobias informed my commanding officer of a plan he had to head east in search of a boat. Colonel Takashi agreed the plan was sound. However, it was decided the original destination was not ideal. As I’m sure you are well aware, the southern tip of New Jersey is located on a peninsula. Great for finding water and possibly a boat, but bad for an alternative escape route,” he said to a few moans and nervous chatter. “If we were to run into trouble on the way to Cape May or we are unable to locate a boat when we get there, we would have no choice but to turn back, returning through possibly unsafe territory. In a worst-case scenario, we would be trapped. Takashi devised an alternative route. He suggested we head south, to the Outer Banks, bypassing the larger cities along the way, of course, and stopping for supplies when the opportunity arises. Barring any unforeseen complications, we should arrive in a few days. This way, if we run into any issues, we simply keep going. In the event of a problem, there will be no need to backtrack. We simply go around.”
“Should we pack up and get ready to go now then?” Bernie asked.
“That was going to be my next point, Bernie. Thank you,” said Miller. “We’ve been here most of the day and it’ll be dark soon, so it doesn’t make sense to leave now. We will only travel at night if we have no other choice.”
“Why can’t we travel after dark? I don’t think those things care one way or another,” Markus asked.
Jeremiah answered for Miller. “It’s simple. We need to see where we’re going.”
“He’s right,” Miller said. “Those things probably can’t see us very well at night, but we certainly can’t see them. There are other reasons, though, not the least of which are supplies. We are drastically low on food and water. We can’t risk passing by a potential food source we didn’t see in the darkness. Which brings me to the primary reason I wanted to speak with you as a group. It is vital that we ration our supplies.”
“Now he’s going to tell us when we can eat,” Lancaster retorted, a little louder than was necessary.
“Not at all, sir. Just the opposite, actually. I’m leaving it up to each one of you to ration supplies. Use only what you need, and use that sparingly. Keep in mind that we may not come across anything else for days,” Miller warned.
Radzinski stepped forward. “In other words, if you see your neighbor getting by on a can of beans a day, don’t expect him to share when you’ve wasted all yours.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant, but Radzinski actually has a point.” Miller’s emphasis brought a snort from Radzinski. Was that a jab? Was Miller even capable of making one?
“Don’t waste anything. Don’t hoard anything. If we work together, we will make it through this. It’s been a very long day and I’m sure no one wants to hear it, but we’re sleeping in our cars tonight. Crack the windows if you need to, but keep your doors locked. I suggest making yourselves comfortable as best as you can and try to get some sleep. We leave at first light.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Respite
Tobias and his family slept while Miller drove the SUV, leading the caravan through ever more rural streets. Old bedsheets hung around the interior of the vehicle, covering the rear windows. Another separated the passenger section of the truck, offering the illusion of privacy as a benefit for those resting. Rachel joined Miller for this leg of the journey, acting as his navigator while Tobias got some much-needed rest. Her primary goal was suggesting alternate routes to get around clogs in the road, but more importantly, she was marking clear roadways on the map in the event they needed to turn around. Detours weren’t always successful, and more than a few U-turns were necessary due to the badly dated map.
“This thing’s damn near useless. Was it printed in the seventies?” she asked, opting for the binoculars instead.
“See anything?”
“No, sir. It’s quiet. Clear. I’m going to take that as the first break we’ve had in a week.”
“Enjoy it. We’ve got a long haul ahead of us.”
“Five hundred miles? That’s not so bad,” Rachel added with an eye roll.
“Under ideal conditions, sure, but we have no idea what we’re heading into. The roads could be flooded with those things or worse. Not to mention I’ve never escorted this many civilians before.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t second-guess yourself. Takashi left you in charge for a reason. He believed in you. We all do.”
“Takashi
didn’t leave me in charge. I was next in line. It’s as simple as that.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. The colonel was grooming you from day one. He saw something in you whether you want to recognize it or not.”
“Try telling that to Radzinski.”
“Fuck that guy. He’s a piece of shit, and Takashi knew it. Why do you think the colonel insisted on that battlefield promotion? It was a safeguard. In case something happened to him, there would be no dispute over who would take command of the unit.”
“I suppose you’re right,” he conceded.
“I am. You’re just being modest, fucking boy scout. Besides, heading to the Outer Banks is just as good a plan as heading anywhere else. Think about it. Tobias is right. I’d much rather have the ocean at my back than hundreds of miles of blacktop.”
“Tobias’s plan is sound.”
“It is. The guy’s alright. I’ll give him that much.” Rachel peeked around the drawn sheet. The Burkes were out cold. Tobias was asleep with his kids in the middle seats. Isabelle slept alone all the way in the back.
“Yeah, he’s a good man with a good head on his shoulders. A good father, too, and that’s what scares me the most. If I make the wrong call, they all die.”
“Enough with the Debbie Downer routine, will ya?” Rachel sighed.
“You’re right, you’re right, as usual. Shit, if it was up to Radzinski, we’d be headed to Tijuana in search of the last of the infamous donkey shows.” He changed the subject rather than engage in another conversation over his worth.
“Well, in that case, Captain, I suggest we change course.” She fumbled with the map again.
“You’re disgusting.” He managed a chuckle.
“What? I just want to see for myself. What’s the harm in looking?”
“Where do I even begin?”
“Hey, you brought it up.” Rachel returned to her scanning of the horizon, places to stop or threats in the distance never far from her mind.
Evening approached, and once again, Miller picked a large clearing off to the side of the road. The spot was far enough from the beaten path that any passersby might just miss them in the darkness but still close enough that returning to the pavement in a hurry would be as simple as loading the civilians and going. The vehicles encircled the makeshift camp with enough space left in between so as not to hinder a hasty retreat. For those who dared sleep under the stars, bedding was fashioned from cut tall grasses wrapped in sheets, though more than half opted for the safety of a vehicle. A modest firepit was dug and surrounded by a wall of stone; the barrier kept the light nearly invisible in the distance.
The Roaming (Book 2): The Toll Page 4